Monday, July 16, 2007

In Which I am Attacked (nearly) by a Duck

So I was in Boston, lovely city that it is and in such a perfectly lovely season, and I left my camera in Rhode Island. Gah. Lacking in drawing skilz, I will have to try and paint pictures for you with words.

I went to the Boston Public Garden on Friday while I was waiting around for the bus to Williamstown that (as it turned out) did NOT leave at 1:30 from Logan as listed in the website, but at 4 from South Station. Again, Gah! But it was fine. I took the T around the city and had a fine time. After lunch I went over to the Public Garden and sat on the grass to watch the swan boats and eat a delicious pastry that seemed to consist of puff pastry dough and uncooked cheesecake batter. Excellent idea. The cheesecake batter I mean, though eating it was not a bad move on my part either.

While I was taking in the lovely surroundings, the perfect weather and the various and assorted interesting peoples who were sharing my appreciation of the park, I took my pastry out of its bag and was immediately (nearly) assaulted by a duck.

You've read Robert McClosky's venerable Make Way For Ducklings book? (what do you mean, "no"?! Get thee to a library, and don't finish this post until you're read the book!) I don't remember any of the ducks in that book climbing into people's laps in order to attempt to steal their pastries, but apparently their descendants are less well-behaved. Ducks these days! Luckily I was able to fend him off with crumbs until the family sitting a few feet away from me, amused by the duck's antics, lured him over to their blanket. Suckers!!

I'm pretty sure I could have taken him anyway. I may be a lightweight but nobody messes with my pastry!

Tuesday, July 10, 2007


Hmm, 'pparently the caffeine weared off faster than i thought it would. Tomorrow I will post about my current adventures in Boston.

Possible titles:

Street signs, who needs 'em?

Only tourists call it Commonwealth Avenue

Darwinism and Boston drivers- survival of the fittest

Francis the GPS, my new best friend

Mosty toasty posty

In order to make up up for not posting for a month I am going to set a record for as many posts as I can finish in one night or before the caffeine wears off.

Agent S introduced me to my favorite midnight snack when we were roommies. It's completely and overwhelmingly bad for you, which I think is my favorite part. It also tastes really, really yummy. Here's how to make it:

1) Fry a piece of sourdough bread (if you can't find good sourdough bread in your part of the country, move to San Francisco) in butter, preferably in a well-used cast iron skillet that your mom gave you when you moved out on your own.

2) Put more butter and heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar on top and watch while the sugar melts into the butter and carmelizes. If some sugar falls off and lands on the pan or the edges of the underside of the bread, that's okay, it turns crispy that way and tastes even better.

3) Eat. Try not to feel bad about the butter and sugar, it ruins the moment. Also being happy produces endorphins, which make you lose weight, or something. Therefore guilt= calories.

your friendly neighborhood nutritionist,

I'm alive... and employed!!!

Dear Legions of Adoring Fans
Gentle Readers


Actually I don't think even my mom reads my blog. She's afraid of teh internets. Although I know she's read it at least once, I'm pretty sure my baby sister Katie showed it to her and I doubt she could find it again on her own. However Lisa not only reads it but bugs me about keeping up with it when I stop posting. She is a true friend, even if she did make fun of Rhode Island occasionally when we both lived there. So Lisa, this post's for you, baby!!

I believe I did mention at one point, that I was unemployed and basically a no 'count good-fer-nothin' when I started this blog and I couldn't comprehend how other people had blogs AND lives!!! Now I no longer have a social life, (which I directly relate to the following fact) but I -somewhat- unfortunately had to break down and get a job. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I've acquired ambition or anything- heavens, no! I often think nostalgically of the days when I could sleep in, then walk to the park, read, clean the house, and do craft projects all day and then go out to dinner with friends, feeling free to stay up late because, hey, it's not like I had to be up at any special time in the morning! But reality intruded, in the form of my bank account dwindling away to nothing and mah car and mah teeth letting me down in the same week. Fortunately the car turned out to be not-so-bad and the cavity alarm was the work of an evil, evil dental factory chain which (to protect the innocent, should there turn out to be any) I shall refer to as Mental Dental. It turns out I have 2 cavities, not 14 and no major gum issues. I luuurve my new dentist.

But back to the topic at hand... which was... ah.. Oh, yes, job. I have one. Cuz' even if all yer teeth don't fall out, ya still gotta pay the rent.

I work here: Paper Source

Not at the web store though. At this brandy-new one: Santana Row and I hate to brag, but well, my store is totally the prettiest. In the website pictures anyway. So I know you're thinking, Hey Jess, what do you do at this awesome store? Management? Design? No, sillies! You're confusing me with someone successful! I am a sales associate. Yes that's right, a clerk.

I know, impressive. Try not to be jealous. After all it's true that I am making more than minimum wage, but it's not that much more, really. And I do get the privilege of paying for my own health insurance- oh wait, I was doing that already- and working nights and weekends.

I actually really really like the job. I've been a Paper Source devotee since I found the store in Wellesley and there are quite a few aspects of the job that appeal to me very much. I love working with paper and design, and helping people figure out how to complete their craft projects or wedding invitations. I love having co-workers, and adore the fact that mine are all wonderful, crafty, fun people. I can't be sad about the fact that I am paid to wrap gifts and make things look pretty. I love wrapping things in paper and putting beee-yootiful ribbons around them. But I feel like I should be doing something more... important or official. You know- like a real job. Like something that requires a college degree, or a title, or a suit and an office. Like a Grown-Up job. I'm thirty-two, for Pete's sake, shouldn't I feel more like an adult? (I've given up on looking like one- that's a whole 'nother post)

I talk half-heartedly about going back to school, but really, that requires drive and I just don't have enough any. I'm tired, and thinking about anything difficult makes me more tired and overwhelms me. Plus, I just don't think I want to go back. What would the end result be? A Grown-Up job with suits and deadlines? Gah!

So, after ten years of being a professional nanny (a job that was only supposed to be a fill-in until I went back to school and which also made me feel like a less-than-adult when I was around people with what seemed more like real, live, grown-up jobs ) I am back to working at the bottom of the retail ladder, roughly the same position I occupied at my first job, when I was in high school. I suppose I could move into management at some point, if I wanted to. But I don't. Really, not at all. And I'm not sure there's anywhere else to go in the company, at least without moving to Chicago, where it's based. And I hear it's cold there in the winter. Cold me no like.

So I'm just drifting along for now trying not to think too hard about the future. But in the meantime, I am having fun. If you have a gift you need wrapped or some advice on bookbinding, come and see me at PS. I'll be the one standing on the counter or tormenting my co-workers with bad jokes.